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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24691570">Contradictions</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonwriter24cmf/pseuds/dragonwriter24cmf'>dragonwriter24cmf</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Merlin (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Character Study, Dysfunctional Family, Gen, Introspection</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 08:29:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,745</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24691570</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonwriter24cmf/pseuds/dragonwriter24cmf</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Most of the time, Merlin hates Uther. But sometimes, he just can't hate him. It takes him a while to realize why.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Contradictions</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Disclaimer: All characters belong to the creators of Merlin tv show.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="western">
  <b>Contradictions</b>
</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The first day Merlin sees Uther, he hates him. Hates him and fears him. He watches the king put a man to death simply for having magic, and banish the man’s grieving mother with harsh words. He watches, and he knows he both hates and fears the man.</p>
<p class="western">Things don’t improve from there. He watches Uther dismiss his own son’s claims because a ‘lowly’ servant gave him his information, and there are no knights alive to confirm the story. Because a knight who wasn’t severely wounded nearly dying isn’t proof enough. Or the fact that Gaius said the man was recovering, and then suddenly he’s dead again? No, not suspicious at all. And in any case, why does Uther dismiss his own son so cavalierly? No wonder Arthur is such a clotpole and a prat with a father like that.</p>
<p class="western">And then there’s the incident with the afanc, and Uther nearly burning Gwen at the stake, just because her father recovered from the illness. Yes, it was his fault, leaving the magic poultice where it could be found, but still...even if Gwen were a sorceress who could save her father’s life, shouldn’t the king have asked her to make more poultices and save more people, rather than trying to execute her?</p>
<p class="western">And then Uther nearly kills him with the poisoned chalice and refuses to give him the cure even after Arthur collects it. Sure, Arthur disobeyed a direct order, and maybe he needs to be punished, but why did Uther decide it was fair to let him die? He didn’t make the idiot go after the cure!</p>
<p class="western">Then there’s the whole debacle with Lancelot. And then the matter of the false healer Edwin. And he hates – absolutely, utterly loathes – that Uther dismisses Gaius on Edwin’s say-so. Gaius has been a loyal servant for years upon years. Gaius gave up his magic because Uther demanded it, and doesn’t even show any signs of resentment. How could Uther treat him like that?</p>
<p class="western">It infuriates him, even after Edwin is unmasked as the murderous bastard he is, and after Uther apologizes (sort of).</p>
<p class="western">And then the king claps him in the stocks three times in three days, because Arthur is an idiot. And then there’s that whole incident with Mordred. Sure, the child might someday be dangerous. And he might be a Druid. But he’s a child! A child who saw his father murdered by the guard. A hurt and sick child who barely survives his own mortality! Why does he need to be hunted just because he inherited magic from his father?</p>
<p class="western">And then the unicorn. He hates everything about the unicorn incident, from the death of the unicorn to the disasters that follow. And while he will begrudgingly admit that Uther endures the lack of food and water with the rest of them, and bears it well and stoically, he still hates him when he hears that Uther has ordered the gates barred to the hungry, and refused to issue rations to the people. Yes, they’re all starving, but to deny his people food and water? And he denies Arthur the chance to mend matters.</p>
<p class="western">The less said about the death of Gwen’s father, the better. He doesn’t have words for how furious that makes him. And it was such a senseless death too.</p>
<p class="western">He hates Uther. Despises him. Will never be loyal to him the way Gaius is. He would rather spit in Uther’s food than serve him. And if he could get away with it, he’d like to clock Uther the way he once tried to hit Arthur.</p>
<p class="western">And yet…</p>
<p class="western">And yet.</p>
<p class="western">When Morgana falls ill from what later turns out to be Edwin’s curse, Uther sits at her bedside. For two days, he barely leaves, and when he has to leave her side, he’s short-tempered and snarling until he can return. Grief etches his face in those days, sharp and far harder than the anger he usually expresses. It’s painful to watch, and it makes him feel vaguely sorry that he hates the man.</p>
<p class="western">Gaius tells him later that Uther offered him home and hearth for as long as he desired, even after he was dismissed. Uther offered to keep Gaius at court. It was Gaius who chose to leave. Uther would have sheltered him for as long as he was willing to stay. And Uther did provide for his journey, with regret.</p>
<p class="western">It’s hard not to feel a little approving, that the king didn’t send his oldest and most loyal servant away like a used plaything.</p>
<p class="western">Yes, Uther claps him in the stocks and mocks him. But he’s no worse than Arthur in that regard, and he could do so much worse. Like cast him from the city, or have him flogged. Or put him in the dungeons. There’s a rough kindness and mercy in some of his decisions. Some. Very few.</p>
<p class="western">
  <span> The wraith. The wraith’s coming might be the first time his hatred really falters. That day in the armory when Uther strides in, wearing plain clothes instead of his usual kingly leathers and crown. Walks in and stops with a quiet “Prepare me for battle.”</span>
</p>
<p class="western">He remembers that so well. The quiet command, bereft of anger, the silent solemnity of the king’s face. Uther knows he walks to his death. They both know it.</p>
<p class="western">
  <span> He remembers stammering that he doesn’t have the king’s armor, and the way Uther shrugs with a strange, serene look on his face. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘It doesn’t matter. This will do. It’s likely to make little difference in the end.’</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p class="western">As if he isn’t the king and shouldn’t be demanding the best armor that can be found.</p>
<p class="western">As if he doesn’t know that he goes to his death, in place of his son. As if he isn’t facing the wraith – his executioner – in Arthur’s stead. As if he isn’t laying down his life for the boy Merlin swore to serve, and doing it freely, for all his talk of not trading a king’s life for another only a few months prior.</p>
<p class="western">There is such quiet dignity in him as Merlin helps him into the armor. Such calm courage. Resigned peace. And love. So much love. He’s often wondered if Uther cares at all for the young adults under his care, but he cannot doubt it at that moment, when Uther lays down his life, lays his head on the metaphorical chopping block, for his son. For all his hatred, it’s hard not to feel pain, lacing the king into his borrowed armor and watching him walk into the arena with his head held high, no trace of regret or fear on that lined and weathered face.</p>
<p class="western">It’s pure luck that the king took Excalibur, the one weapon that could kill the wraith and save his life. Any other choice, and they would have buried the king. And he knows that Uther would have died willingly.</p>
<p class="western">And Uther does bear up well under the starvation and rationing under the unicorn curse. He doesn’t order the end of rations until near the end. Only after the reserves have rotted. For all that the decision seems cruel, it is one that might also be considered necessary, and Uther endures the rage of his kingdom for it. Throughout it all, he eats no better than anyone else, and not as well as some. He doesn’t get any rat stew, for example.</p>
<p class="western">The death of Tom the blacksmith is a horrible affair and stokes his hatred hot and bright. And yet...he watches Uther ride out of the gates alone with Morgana, to her father’s grave. It is a trap, and though Uther might not know that, he has to know the rebels are out there and that it is dangerous to go so lightly escorted. He has to know, and yet he goes for the woman who he calls ward and daughter in different breaths.</p>
<p class="western">He makes it in time to see Uther and Morgana at the grave, though it takes him longer to get to a point where he could help. But he sees...oh, he sees.</p>
<p class="western">He sees Uther kneeling at the grave. Sees the king bow his head, bow his body, briefly prostrate in whatever observance he makes. Sees the way he embraces Morgana. And there it is again. Such love. Bright and sharp as a blade, vulnerable and naked as a newborn child. Heart-wrenching, even in his rage and grief over Tom’s death and Gwen’s mourning.</p>
<p class="western">He watches Uther fight for his life, watches Morgana save the life she endangered, and nearly condemned. Watches Uther stumble to his feet, his sword still buried upright in the grass. He cannot tell if Uther realizes it was a trap, an ambush. What he can see is the way the king enfolds his ward in his arms.</p>
<p class="western">It’s an image that follows him into his dreams, red cloak and green flowing together in the wind, Uther’s bared head bent over Morgana’s his arms about her shoulders. A father’s love in every line of his body. Somehow, he thinks that even if Uther were told that Morgana orchestrated the whole event, he would not care.</p>
<p class="western">And then the Questing Beast strikes Arthur. And all the gods and goddesses above, he cannot hate Uther at that moment. Cannot.</p>
<p class="western">There is no room for hatred in their shared grief and fear for Arthur’s fate. But even if there were...how can he hate the man he sees?</p>
<p class="western">He remembers it vividly for months after. The naked anguish in Uther’s face as Gaius tells him that Arthur is dying. The moan of pain, quickly and ruthlessly repressed. The way Uther bends and lifts his dying son into his arms. His arms and no one else's.</p>
<p class="western">The armor Arthur still wears alone would be a heavy burden. Add in the prince’s limp and unresponsive body...Merlin knows well the weight that Uther lifts into his arms. Lighter than his own heart at the moment, but a heavy burden.</p>
<p class="western">
  <span>
    <span> He remembers the way Uther crossed the courtyard. One step after another, slow and solemn and alone. So very alone in his grief and his pain.</span>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="western">
  <span>
    <span> He remembers that first stumbling step, just over halfway through the courtyard. One faltering step, then another, and the way Uther finally sags to one knee, head bowed in anguish that a blind man could read. He remembers how, even in his fall, Uther holds his son tight, keeps him from falling to the unforgiving stones.<br/></span>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="western">
  <span>
    <span> He remembers the way four of the knights come forward to take the prince away. Four knights to bear the burden that Uther carried alone to that point. </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="western">
  <span>
    <span> He sees how Uther twists on his knees, his face buried in Gaius’s shoulder. The tears streaking his pale cheeks. Uther does not hide his face in shame for his grief, makes no effort to conceal the terrible wrenching pain that bows him so briefly to the ground. No, he seeks Gaius as a comfort, turning to his oldest companion in the midst of grief so great that torture would be kindness.</span>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="western">
  <span>
    <span> It is a short moment of vulnerability, but all-encompassing, and worse for the fact that Uther will not give voice to his agony. His face twists and tears fall, but he is silent in his pain, in those moments when Gaius offers the little comfort he can give. </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="western">
  <span>
    <span> He rises before the knights have entered the castle, his face once again composed. But it is a false composure and lasts only until he reaches Arthur’s chambers. Then the mask breaks again, as he falls to his knees at his son’s bedside and takes the clammy hand in his own.</span>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="western">
  <span>
    <span> And oh...the time that follows will never leave his memory, he thinks. As Arthur’s servant, he is with the prince whenever he is not helping Gaius search for a cure. Uther never leaves Arthur’s side, and there at his son’s death-bed (as they think it), he wears no mask. His emotions are evident for all to see.</span>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="western">
  <span>
    <span> In the long hours, he wipes away the sweat from Arthur’s brow. He caresses his son’s face when delirium threatens. He takes his hands and murmurs soft and gentle words until anguish chokes his voice. He does not sleep, not until utter exhaustion takes him against his will. He does not eat, and he would not drink, did Gaius not force his hand. There is so much tenderness in every gesture he makes, so much resigned anguish and aching pain...it hurts to watch Uther in those hours, with his soul laid naked before any who would see. </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="western">
  <span>
    <span> And within that room, Arthur’s sick-bed and the king’s vigil, he cannot hate Uther. Cannot hate this man who so deeply loves his son. Cannot hate this vulnerable and near-broken man who speaks words that should never be expressed with an audience. Who stands with every beat of his heart exposed, and bleeds grief and sorrow and suffering like blood from a mortal wound. </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="western">
  <span>
    <span> No. There is no hating Uther in those hours. Nor in the aftermath of administering the cure, when the mask is still gone and relief shines through his face. Such joy, it makes him look a decade younger and near innocent. He watches Uther embrace his son as Arthur rouses from his coma, and thinks that if Uther were always the way he is now, he would be by far the best king in any realm.</span>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="western">
  <span>
    <span> It’s hard to understand. Hard to reconcile after Arthur recovers, and Uther returns to his usual nature. How can the man at Arthur’s bedside, the man who walked to face the wraith and risked death to comfort his ward...how can this be the same man who executes magic users, and refuses truths until they are shoved into his face? Who once imprisoned Morgana for speaking against his edicts, and regularly shouts down his son in Court?</span>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="western">
  <span>
    <span> How?</span>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="western">
  <span>
    <span> It takes him a long time before he finally understands, and then only because of Gaius.</span>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="western">
  <span>
    <span> Gaius can be the most kind of men. Gaius makes sure he is fed and housed and safe. Gaius speaks kindly to him, guides him.</span>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="western">
  <span>
    <span> But Gaius can also be a stern taskmaster. And he is not to be trifled with or lied to. He will not be deceived or dismissed by the boy in his care, no matter how powerful Merlin might be. He will not protect Merlin from the consequences of foolishness, not unless it’s a life or death situation. </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="western">
  <span>
    <span> Gaius, in his even-tempered kindness, makes him feel safe and loved. Like he knows what it is to have a father for the first time in his life. Gaius when he is unhappy or making a point...well, that can be and generally is unpleasant. </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="western">
  <span>
    <span> Uther is more extreme, more volatile and temperamental. But he finally understands.</span>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="western">
  <span>
    <span> Gaius has never had to show a face other than his own. Uther though...Uther must be king and father, lord and master and man all at once. Uther wears the mask of absolute authority that comes with the crown upon his head. He wears the burdens of his kingship and the responsibilities that come with them. When he rules, he cannot weep, and he cannot yield. Perhaps he could bend, or change his mind on occasion, but that is a risky path and a delicate one, and Uther is not one for delicacy. Or for any action which might make him lose face.</span>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="western">
  <span>
    <span> He cannot always be a father. Sometimes, all too often, he must be the king—the hard-faced and unforgiving man, whose reputation keeps his borders at least somewhat safe.</span>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="western">And it is this that Merlin hates. He hates Uther, king and lord and tyrant. Heavy-handed master of the castle and the kingdom.</p>
<p class="western">
  <span>
    <span> But there are times when Uther drops the mask, releases the reins and constraints and demands of power. Puts aside the crown and the demands it makes of him. And when that happens – rare as it is – the man that emerges is one he hates far less, if at all.</span>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="western">
  <span>
    <span> In the end, that is the truth that lies at the heart of all the contradictions of Uther’s actions and his own heart.</span>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="western">
  <span>
    <span> Uther the king is a monster that he hates and would see dead if he could.</span>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="western">
  <span>
    <span> Uther the man...Uther the father…</span>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="western">
  <span>
    <span> That is a man he cannot hate at all, and might give much to save.</span>
  </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I was watching Season One, and this just...because Uther is such a confusing character. Complex. Sometimes I want to punch him in the face, and then something happens and he's just such a father, and...well, complicated, and it gave birth to this little fic.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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